Ha, I had to do a double back when I read the first two line because it all set into pace way too quickly and perfectly and I was like, “Wait, what ? That was the first two sentence – it started already?!”

This is my favorite line, “Their black magic hardened on her skin like a crust,” My god, that was powerful. I don’t know if you meant it this way, but it seems like the protagonist was a painting and the artist poured all his heart and love and energy into it. Eventually, the painting is done and his love is removed begin on another work. At the end, it seems like the artist goes back to pour his eyes onto the first painting, just once in a while. However you meant it, this is a beautifully written tale of love and loss.